


Don't Get Attached

by Alys_Brauer



Series: McSpirk Prompt Fills [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Multi, prompt fills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:30:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8187922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alys_Brauer/pseuds/Alys_Brauer
Summary: A prompt fill for my tumblr account mckirkishPrompt: Triumvirate + Kitten“Did you really rescue a kitten from the rain and bring it back to our apartment in your jacket? Did we suddenly become stars in a chick flick? Oh! I call dibs on the lead!”





	

Jim is never going to let him live this down. He knows this, but he must have some kind of masochistic streak deep down, because Leo doesn’t  _stop_. Hell, he may be a cynical bastard, but he’s not heartless, and any teasing Jim dishes out Leo’s gotten quite good with dealing with. Besides, Spock will probably be on his side for this, maybe, well…he can at least hope.

“I fucking  _hate_  San Francisco,” Leo growls as he enters the apartment he shares with Jim and Spock. He drips pathetically on the welcome mat, his shoulders hunched against the wind that had been attacking him before he stepped inside, his arms wrapped around his middle in a futile attempt to keep in some warmth.

“It’s not logical to hate an entire city, Leonard. I don’t believe San Francisco itself has done anything to harm you.”

“Shut up, Spock,” Leo growls, in no mood for far too literal minded banter just at the moment.

“Aww. Come on, Bones, don’t pout.” Jim appears out of nowhere, grinning like the immature infant he is. He  _is_ holding a towel though, so Leo can’t glare  _too_  hard at him.

Leo reaches for the towel, but as soon as he moves one hand his jacket shifts, and there’s a soft, plaintive, mewl protesting the removal. “Shit,” he curses, wrapping his arm around his middle again.

Jim stares at him, a look of absolute glee spreading across his face.

Fuck.

Of course he knew it would lead to this eventually, but he’s starting to think that he should have just let things be. He’s in no mood to handle-

“Why, Leonard McCoy, are you actually hiding a  _kitten_  in your jacket?” Jim fairly bounces where he stands.

“I’m not hiding it,” he shoots back defensively. Straightening, he unzips his jacket and a tiny, black head pops out, releasing another truly pathetic sound. “I just didn’t want it getting any more wet is all.”

“Oh. My. God.” Jim stares in open-mouth awe as the fluffy thing wriggles out from Leo’s coat and climbs up onto his shoulder. Now the bouncing does start, and Jim looks like a five-year old who’s been brought to a candy store and told he could eat just as much as his greedy heart desires. “Did you really rescue a kitten from the rain and bring it back to our apartment in your  _jacket_? Did we suddenly become stars in a chick flick? Oh! I call dibs on the lead!”

Rolling his eyes, Leo grabs the towel from Jim and shoulders his way past Jim to get to the kitchen. “We’re not in a chick flick, you infant,” he grumbles, very carefully toweling his still dripping hair in order not to disturb his fuzzy little passenger.

“Oh we so are! This is clearly the part where you win me over by proving that you have a squishy, soft heart under that gruff, exterior,” Jim explains as he follows Leo toward the little kitchen, clearly beside himself with glee

Leo snorts. “If you’re the lead, and I’m the love interest, where does that leave Spock?”

They both turn toward Spock, who’s curled up on the couch with a book. At the silence, he lifts his eyes and raises an unimpressed eyebrow at the pair of them. “Not interested in this conversation,” Spock informs them before returning his attention to his text book.

“You’re no fun, Spock,” Jim complains good-naturedly, before turning back to Leo. “Come on, let me hold her. I know you want to go dry off.”

There is absolutely no reason for Jim to be giving Leo the puppy-dog stare, but he is. The annoyance that has steadily been growing melts in an instant, and Leo sighs. “Oh all right. But don’t get attached,” he warns, reaching up to pluck the kitten from his shoulder and deposit it in Jim’s very willing arms. “We can’t keep it.”

“Awww, why not?” Jim cradles the little thing, stroking it fondly. “She’s so cute.”

“I must concur with Leonard. When we signed the lease to this apartment we agreed to the no pets clause,” Spock informs Jim reasonably. “It would be best not to get attached when it is obvious that we cannot keep it.”

“There, what he said,” Leo jabs a thumb over his shoulder in Spock’s direction as he heads off to the room to get out of his wet clothes.

“I think I’m going to call her Isis.”

Leo doesn’t look back. He knows that Jim will have increased the entreaty in his eyes, and he’s not having any of it. “Don’t get attached,” he repeats instead as he closes the door behind him.

“I just don’t get it,” Jim confides to Leo a month later. He leans against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes trained on the curled up figure of Spock on the couch.

“Don’t get what?” Leo asks, leaning against the kitchen counter, keeping one eye on dinner, the other on Jim.

“Isis,” Jim responds, as if the name of the kitten explains everything.

Leo’s eyebrow quirks up in silent question.

“I feed her. I clean the litter. I cuddle her, but whenever I turn my back she goes back there.”

“There’s no accounting for taste, Jim.”

Leo knows damn well that Spock can hear them, but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he lets his textbook rest between his knee and the arm of the couch, and reaches up to stroke the purring kitten on his shoulder.

So much for not getting attached.


End file.
